


Coming Home to Camelot

by Onehelluvapilot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Gwen (Merlin), Episode Fix-it, Episode: s04e09 Lancelot du Lac, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, Magic, Magic Made Them Do It, Mind Control, Possession, Women Being Awesome, but like not really because, ish?, no beta we die like women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: The coin Morgana threw into the Pool of Nemhain was payment for not just a body but a soul. Lancelot was partly a Shade, that was true, and because of that the sorceress was able to take control of him, but the noble knight's will wouldn't be so easily overcome.
Relationships: Gwen & Lancelot (Merlin), Gwen & Morgana (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I think we can all agree that the Merlin creators did everyone dirty with the episode Lancelot Du Lac. I mean, Lancelot obviously, but then Merlin pretty clearly lets down his friends and Gwen doesn't have the chance for any agency and generally its just kind of a bummer? I fixed it, I think.
> 
> I really hate the title but I couldn't come up with anything better. If you have suggestions I'd love to hear them.

All of Camelot was a little worried when Lancelot came home. After all, the blood sacrifice was supposed to be permanent, and if the knight was back, did that mean the Dorocha would return as well? As night fell without incident, though, they began to relax and the knights all gathered to eat together and hear his story. If anyone found it suspicious, or had doubts about the knight himself, they were drowned in relief, and soon by ale as well. After Lancelot's toast they drank without restraint and by the end of the night were jovial as could be.

For Gwaine, the illusion that everything was fine shattered in an instant when he looked up and caught Lancelot’s eye . He looked, in a word, shattered. Forehead pinched in concern, jaw slack in apparent confusion, those dark brown eyes… Gwaine had been unconscious when the other knight had walked into the veil, but his expression now gave him a good idea of what Merlin must’ve looked like when he did. Lance looked more scared than Gwaine had ever seen him, more unsure than anyone had the right to be at what amounted to a feast held in his honor. Instantly he looked around the room, scanning for any sign of danger. Finding none, he stood up just slowly enough to avoid knocking his chair over backwards and made his way with forced leisure towards the end of the table. It could be that Lancelot’s time in the other world gave him some heightened sense; he might be seeing a threat that Gwaine couldn’t, and if that was the case, he wanted to know about it.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly, hovering over his friend’s chair. The king, seated at the other end of the long table, was conversing with Gwen and hadn’t seemed to notice anything was wrong, and the rest of the knights couldn’t handle their ale and were too drunk to pay much attention. Lancelot looked up at him and something seemed to snap back into place in his eyes.

“Of course not, what could be amiss?” he replied, smiling. But Gwaine was well acquainted with both lies and smiles and could tell that this was the former. Lancelot’s smile was a shy thing, made of eyes and lips sometimes accompanied with a soft and breathy laugh, as if he didn’t think he deserved happiness. In comparison, the expression he wore now was all teeth, pinched cheeks, almost pained. There was something deeply upsetting about it to the knight who made the creation of genuine smiles his mission.

“You just looked worried for a minute there.” Worried was an understatement. He had looked downright terrified.

“It just hasn’t quite sunk in that I’m here yet,” Lancelot explained without hesitation. “Nothing a little wine won’t fix.”

Gwaine nodded, supposing that could be it. Hoping that was it, because his friend had been through enough. Specifically, all the way through the veil and back. The most noble among them, he didn’t deserve to be haunted further. Retreating back to his seat, Gwaine filled his cup and drank to forget the look of abject terror on Lancelot’s face, lest it return to haunt his nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning; there's a non-graphic mention of vomit in this chapter, as well as more discussion of mind control-type things.

“Good night, Merlin, Gaius,” Lancelot bade the physician and the servant as he retreated to Merlin’s room for bed. The knight had seemed taken aback when he learned that the chambers he’d had before his death had been given away, despite how many months he’d been gone and the fact that no one had expected him to return, and it had taken little convincing to get him to borrow Merlin’s bed. While the warlock was of course glad to have him back, he was also glad of the excuse to keep him close. There was something wrong about the knight. He’d noticed it from the beginning, but realizing Lancelot had forgotten about his magic convinced him that the man was not himself. As soon as the door to his room closed, he went to the book of magic Gaius kept on the top shelf and began reading through it for any mention of necromancy, flipping the pages with magic so he could scan more quickly.

“Found it!” he exclaimed after just a minute, barely remembering to keep his voice down so Lancelot, or whatever it was that was inhabiting his body, didn’t hear. He brought the book over to Gaius who was sorting herbs near the fire and explained it in more of a whisper. “I think Lancelot is a Shade.”

The physician took the book from him and read it carefully after sliding his glasses on. “That’s a disturbing thought,” he replied. Gaius flipped the page forward, which Merlin hadn’t bothered to do once he’d found what he was looking for, and found a picture of the triskelion coin. Below it was an inscription. “If thrown into the Pool of Nemhain, the trinity of a body, soul, and mind can be resurrected. By use of magic, the body can be bound to the mind of another and under their control, but the trinity can never be broken and the mind and soul remain intact, simply repressed.”

“So, what we’re seeing  _ is _ Lancelot, but someone else is controlling him,” Merlin said, finally hopeful. “Who could be doing that?”

“I suspect it takes quite a lot of power to control another person’s body from a distance,” Gaius replied. “Since Morgause’s demise, I suspect there’s only two people in the world with that ability.”

Merlin nodded. “Me and-”

A crash from the servant’s room interrupted them. After just a quick glance to each other, both men rushed for the door. Lancelot was inside, kneeling on the floor beside the borrowed bed. A choked noise escaped his throat and it was only after decades of experience with the sound that Gaius was able to grab a bucket and shove it beneath the knight’s face before he was bringing back up the food from the feast held in his honor. Despite his wariness, Merlin dropped to his knees beside the body of his oldest friend in Camelot and began rubbing his back gently. Even if Lancelot wasn’t in control, he was still there and deserved comfort.

“Easy,” he soothed. “What happened?”

Lancelot didn’t seem to hear his question but he must’ve recognized the voice because instantly his head jerked up to look at the servant. “Merlin,” he whispered, between gasps, and despite his breathlessness the name held a reverent quality on his lips. It was the farthest thing from the impartiality with which he had greeted the young man earlier and it was clear that something had changed, something important. “I’m not- she’s-” Whatever he had to say, he wasn’t able to get it out before he hunched back over, the muscles in his back going taut under Merlin’s hand. It seemed like he was going to vomit again, but he didn’t, and after a second he straightened up more completely than before.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice stronger though he still breathed heavily. Despite the words being nothing sinister, an undeniable and unwelcome change seemed to have fallen over the room.

“Lance, what  _ was _ that?” Merlin demanded.

“It’s nothing, the knight insisted, pushing himself to his feet. “Small moment of weakness and confusion. I’m afraid I’m not entirely recovered from my encounter with the veil.”

“Then you ought to rest,” Gaius said, and Lancelot did not object as the physician helped him back into bed while Merlin dealt with the contents of the bucket. After the door was safely closed again, the two met back out in the main room, dropping their voices to a whisper this time. “What do you think that really was?”

“Lancelot’s soul,” Merlin replied with conviction, “Trying to break free from Morgana’s hold on his body.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter; it's sort of just a filler? Sorry.

Gwen listened partially to Lancelot's words as he spoke to her in her home, but mostly she paid attention to his tone. His voice was lovely, as usual, but it was different than it had been before he left. His word choice was more refined, which seemed odd given that he had told them he’d been living and working as a hired fighter again. And yet, the speaking style was somehow familiar. Very much so. Gwen recognized it, but couldn’t place it, beyond the fact that it wasn’t Lancelot’s.

There was also the small matter that Lance, the old Lance, never would have come to her home on the day before her wedding. Even if he claimed it was to wish her happiness. And bringing her a bracelet was totally inappropriate.

Although… it wasn't like sweet and selfless gestures were unusual for Lancelot. After all, he'd sacrificed himself to the veil for Arthur. Or at least for Gwen's love. He hadn't cared that it wasn't for him. He would do anything to make her happy. It was the least she could do to wear his bracelet.

* * *

During the final joust between Lancelot and Arthur, both Gwen and Merlin watched both the participants intently. As such, they were the only ones to notice Lancelot jerk in the saddle and how suddenly he dropped his lance. Conceding the fight had not been his original intention, Merlin realized. Rather, he had changed his mind so suddenly that for a second, he seemed just as likely to fall from his horse as Arthur. He was back to as he had been, which could hardly be called normal, by the time he dismounted.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this one ended up no longer or better than the last chapter. anyway...

After the joust, Merlin started to follow Lancelot, or rather, as he was now convinced, to follow Morgana, who was possessing Lancelot’s body. It didn’t take long for it to pay off, as a meeting with Agravaine definitely counted as suspicious and sinister behavoir. He couldn’t get close enough to overhear their conversation and when they split up, he couldn’t follow both. The decision to go after Lance wasn’t a hard one, since there wasn’t much he could do against Agravaine whereas there might be a way to get his friend back if he stayed with him.

“Lancelot!” He shouted when they reached an empty corridor. The man turned around, and Merlin could tell he was himself from the expression on his face. Then his jaw clenched and his face shifted to a familiar smirk. Morgana. She raised his hand and Merlin flew backwards. Evidently, she wasn’t afraid of showing her magic. Maybe that was her plot; to get Lancelot accused of sorcery and undermine the legitimacy of the commoner knights? He didn’t have much time to think about it, as his head hit stone and the world went dark.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a longer and better chapter! I'm actually proud of this one.

“Sire, there’s something I think you should see,” Agravaine said after waking Arthur. 

“What is it, and can it wait? It’ll the middle of the night, Uncle.”

“I don’t think so, Sire. If you would follow me?” The king sighed but got up and strapped on his sword before trailing his uncle down the corridor. He realized they were on their way to the council chambers, and threw open the doors ahead of Agravaine, determined to know what was going on.

Near the throne, halfway secluded by a column, Guinevere was kissing Lancelot. Even in the low light, there was no mistaking either of them. Lancelot, his most trusted knight, was kissing Guinevere, his betrothed. They were set to be married tomorrow and now she was making out one of his knights!

Arthur was glad he'd brought his sword, as Lancelot wore his. This would be a proper duel, not simply a fist fight. Lancelot, still a skilled swordsman if not as loyal as they had once thought, drew his weapon as soon as he heard Arthur's shout and defended himself fiercely. He blocked every one of Arthur's blows and even landed a few of his own. Merlin, who had regained consciousness and followed Arthur to the council chambers, was reminded of how Morgana knew how to handle a sword as well as her half-brother. Arthur's sword never hit Lancelot, until suddenly it did. Stabbed in the side, the knight collapsed against the throne. Everyone else seemed stunned.

"It's me, it's me," he pleaded, looking to Merlin as he stepped out of the shadows. "I'm sorry." Arthur stepped back, lowering his sword, as the servant ran forward.

"Merlin, what are you doing here?" the King demanded, as if that was the important thing right now.

"I heard fighting," he explained as he dropped to his knees beside Lancelot. It was clear from the look in his eyes, even as they were squinted in pain, that it was his own soul back in his body rather than Morgana’s.

"Why did you stop?" Agravaine demanded, turning to his nephew. "Adultery within the noble classes is punishable by death."

"He's not himself," Merlin answered at the same time Arthur replied "I won't kill an unarmed man." Lancelot had dropped his sword when he collapsed, and even as furious as he was, he would hold onto his honor. Even if Lancelot, it seemed, had no such concerns.

"The bracelet," Lance gasped out, clutching desperately to Merlin's wrist with one hand while the other lay against his wound. He wouldn't let the servant move to treat the injury, despite the obvious pain it was causing him. "Gwen's, it's enchan-" A grimace cut him off and he threw his head back against the throne. That was not a natural reaction to the wound, Merlin realized, but rather to Morgana reclaiming control of his body. Too late, he reached to move the sword away, but the pain wasn't holding Lancelot’s body back now and he was faster. Merlin would've been a goner if a vase full of wedding flowers had not come down suddenly over the possessed knight’s head. The servant looked up at his apparent savior incredulously. Just a minute ago, Gwen had been kissing Lancelot passionately, and now she was rendering him unconscious? Merlin wondered at the sudden change in behaviour before noticing that her wrists, usually adorned with jewelry, were bare. A bracelet lay on the floor nearby.

"It's enchanted," she explained, finishing Lancelot's words. "The bracelet, I mean. Arthur, please, I would never- not of my own free will-"

"We can deal with that later," Merlin cut in. "Right now, we need to deal with Lancelot. Help me carry him to Gaius before he wakes up."

"Merlin, he tried to kill you!" Arthur objected.

"This man belongs in the dungeon," Agravaine agreed.

"That wasn't him!” Merlin bit back fiercely, not caring at all that he was yelling at the King and his closest advisor and uncle. “It’s Morgana, using his body. Listen, I’ll explain later, but right now he’ll die if the wound isn’t treated and we'll lose any chance of getting him back."

"Die again, you mean," Arthur murmured under his breath, but he trusted Merlin’s judgement and picked up Lance under the arms while the servant grabbed his feet.

"Sire, this is-" Arthur's uncle tried once again to persuade him to let Lancelot die.

"No," the young king barked firmly in reply. "Help Merlin." The older man cast his nephew an odd glance but did as he said, taking one of Lancelot’s legs. Together the three men carried the fourth to Gaius’s chambers and laid him down on the table. 

“Agravaine, escort Guinevere back to her chambers and post a guard on her door,” Arthur ordered. The man nodded and took the woman, who had followed them with tears in her eyes, by the arm. Arthur himself stayed, looking over where his most noble knight lay bleeding from a wound he had inflicted. “We should tie him down,” he suggested. “If Morgana really is controlling him, we should make sure she isn’t able to hurt anyone.”

“That’s a good idea,” Merlin said as he bustled around looking for various herbs, and Arthur could have died of the shock of hearing his manservant call him anything but clotpole or idiot. “Just make sure you pad the ropes with fabric.”

The instruction was unnecessary. Despite his anger at the knight, Arthur had not been intending to let his bonds chafe at his wrists and ankles should Morgana decide to make him struggle. He found that he did not doubt Merlin’s claim that Lancelot was not himself, though he wondered how the servant knew. He secured the ropes tightly, leaving the injured man no slack to hurt himself or others. It wouldn’t do for him to lose his manservant to a knight being mind-controlled by his evil sister. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. When had magic become part of his life?

“Excuse me, Sire,” Gaius interrupted, nudging him gently out of the way so he could reach his patient.

“Will he live?” he asked nervously, praying the answer would be yes. Lancelot had already died for him once; he could not bear it if he died again, this time at Arthur’s own hand.

“The wound is not a mortal one,” the physician replied, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “However, the possession may be more difficult to cure.”

“Do whatever you need to to fix him,” Arthur said sternly. He emphasized whatever, hoping that they understood his meaning. He was not completely ignorant to the fact that Gaius had saved a few books of small magics from the Purge. “I will make sure you are not interrupted in your work. Keep me informed of his condition.”

“I will, sire,” Merlin agreed, and for once his use of the word was not sarcastic. His solemn tone was enough to convince the king that he was serious, and secure in the knowledge that if anyone could save Lancelot, it would be Merlin, he left them to their work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, Arthur doesn't actually know that Merlin has magic. He just thinks Gaius kept a book of healing spells and the like, but nothing dangerous.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the pronouns are a little confusing in this chapter, as I change them based on whether Lancelot or Morgana is in control of his body. Hopefully its fairly comprehensible.

By the time Lancelot woke up, Gaius had stitched his wound closed and Merlin had read through their entire magic book twice looking for something that could break Morgana’s hold on him. It had yielded nothing beyond what he had already known; not even an indication of if it could be done. The only solution Merlin could come up with was killing the sorceress herself.

“Merlin?” the knight queried, and he sounded like himself. “What happened?”

“Arthur caught you kissing Gwen and knocked you out with a vase,” Merlin said. The lie was intentional; he wanted to know if Lancelot could remember things that happened while Morgana was in control and vice versa. He also wasn’t entirely sure that this was really Lancelot speaking.

“Funny, I seem to remember being stabbed,” he intoned drily. His tone and word choice didn’t feel like the knight, but it must be him if he knew that. Or Morgana knew what happened even when she wasn’t in charge. Or she could just feel the wound now, if it was her. That hadn’t narrowed down anything! Merlin could have screamed in frustration except that he didn’t want Lancelot to hear, both for his friend, who he didn’t want to worry, and for Morgana. He didn’t want her to know he was annoyed, as she would definitely find a way to use that to her advantage. The woman was cunning; she had clearly arranged this whole affair to drive a wedge between Gwen and Arthur and keep her former servant from ascending to what she considered her rightful throne.

“It’s not like you didn’t deserve it, Morgana,” he replied. Instantly Lancelot’s expression twisted and Merlin knew he had guessed right.

“I should have known that would be your reasoning since you poisoned me,” she hissed. “But I thought you might be a little kinder to Lancelot, beloved hero as he is. Or do you betray all your friends?”

“You’re hardly one to talk about that, given that you performed necromancy to prevent Gwen becoming queen.”

Morgana opened her mouth to speak, before Lancelot winced, eyes squinting shut. When he opened them again, the kindness was back in the brown and instead of a smirk his mouth hung open slightly as he seemed to fight for breath. Displacing Morgana seemed to take a lot out of him, and Merlin desperately hoped Arthur hadn’t hurt his ability to fight her off when he’d injured Lancelot.

“Hey,” he said softly, sounding exhausted. He had to take a deep breath before his next words. “Merlin, you should gag me.”

“What, no!” the sorcerer immediately objected. “We’ve already tied you up, I’m not going to gag you.”

“I know she must still be trying to hurt you. I don’t want her to be able to use her voice for that. Please. And her magic-” His voice caught suddenly and with a shift in his body language, visible even though he was tied up and could barely move, Morgana took back control. There seemed to be a very firm limit on how long Lancelot could throw her off for, which cast doubt on the idea that he would be able to buck her off after a while. 

“Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Morgana cooed. Hearing that mocking tone in his best friend’s voice made Merlin want to screw his ears closed. At least this time, she wasn’t trying to hide it and trick him like last time. “The honorable Sir Lancelot, always looking out for others fir-”

This time Morgana was the one cut off as Merlin quickly gagged Lancelot with a long strip of cloth soaked in some honey water. He’d made sure it was damp but not dripping, so his mouth wouldn’t get too dry but he wouldn’t feel like he was drowning. The servant wished he could get some confirmation that it felt okay, but instead the man just started trying to scream around it. He had to force himself to remember that it was Morgana, not Lancelot, and even then, he had to fight the urge to take it off them. It could be hours, he knew, until his friend worked the strength back up to push the sorceress back, and until then, he would just have to listen to it as he read through every book Gaius owned to try to find a way to break him free.

“Is there anything I can do?” a soft voice asked, causing Merlin to look up from his book and quickly hide it under a blanket. Arthur seemed to approve of them using magic texts (and any other day that would make Merlin’s heart leap for joy but right now he was too occupied with other things), but that didn’t mean he was going to leave them for just anyone to see.

Although it wasn’t just anyone in the doorway. Gwen stood there, and Merlin watched tears spring to her eyes as she looked over at Lancelot. He was still trying to scream and tossing about in the bed, appearing by all accounts to be in agony.

“It’s not him, Gwen, it’s Morgana,” Merlin reminded her gently.

“But, does he know what’s going on, even when it isn’t him?” After a moment, Merlin nodded. “Then I want to sit with him.”

“You sure? Arthur won’t be mad?”

“It’s his own damn problem if he is,” she announced, demeanor instantly shifting. From her tone of voice as well as her very unladylike choice of words, it was clear they had fought.

“Alright. Just… don’t untie him, obviously, and don’t hold his hand,” Merlin advised. “If Morgana’s being especially vindictive, she could probably squeeze hard enough to break fingers.”

Looking sufficiently molified, Gwen pulled up a chair beside Lancelot. Instantly the thrashing stopped so he could stare at her. After all, Morgana’s entire plan was to hurt Gwen, so what was she doing here? The glare was too hard to bear, so to avoid meeting his eyes, the bronze-skinned woman leaned in and gently folded herself over Lancelot. His body went rigid under her as she lay her head on his chest but began to relax as she started to card a hand through his hair. He could have moved and tried to get her off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared down at the top of Gwen’s head as it rested on his chest with such an unbelievable look of surprise and confusion on his face. Was that Lancelot, Merlin wondered, or Morgana? When was the last time either of them had been held like that? It was impossible to tell who was in control, and when they started crying, Gwen didn’t seem to care. She wiped the tears from under their eyes and kept a hand on their chest as it heaved from sobs until they wore himself out and lapsed into unconsciousness. Merlin went to replace his gag with a fresh one.

“Leave it out,” Gwen instructed. “I want to hear what they have to say when they wake up.”


	7. Chapter 7

“She’s gone,” Lancelot said first thing when he woke up. It was clear that he meant Morgana, given that he could see Gwen still sitting beside him. His voice was hoarse from all the screaming around the gag, but it was stronger than it had been, like he didn’t have to fight for every word anymore. Gwen wet a corner of the fabric again in some honey water for him to suck on to soothe his throat.

“Excuse us if we keep you tied up a little longer to be sure,” Merlin said, but he was smiling. It seemed hard to believe that Morgana had just left, but Lancelot did seem to be himself. Still tired and wounded, sure, but relaxed for the first time since he had returned.

“Why?” Gwen demanded. “Why would she just let you go?”

Lancelot shrugged as much as he could with his arms still tied. “I can’t remember. Everything is kind of… fuzzy from the last few days. I don’t even remember when I was in control.” Everything had been permeated with the same sense of struggle and powerlessness, so that little remained clear in his mind. He turned to look at Merlin, clearly expecting some sort of explanation from the wizard.

“Maybe you just wore her out?” he suggested, but Lancelot shook his head at that idea. If anything, he had been the one exhausted by fighting for control. “Then, maybe she realized that her plans were foiled since we had figured out what was going on and how to stop her.”

“I don’t think that’s it either,” Lancelot murmured. “She, or… we, I guess… were angry when Gwen came over. It gets less clear from there, but there was sadness and guilt, and I don’t think it was all mine. I think… I think Morgana missed you, Guinevere.”

“Missed me?” Guinevere asked, sounding almost bashful. There was a blush raising on her cheeks and Lancelot wondered whether she and Morgana had lain together before. Had she rested her head on her mistress’s chest like she did with him? He had assumed he had been the serving girl’s first love, but perhaps not. “I should go tell Arthur that you’re awake,” she said, turning away in an obvious attempt to escape the situation. They let her go.

“We should wait for Arthur to untie you, but I can check your wounds at least,” Merlin said when she was gone, and Lancelot nodded his assent. The servant’s hands were gentle, and he leaned into the touch when Merlin examined the bump on his forehead where Gwen had hit him with a vase. “It’s good to have you back, Lancelot,” Merlin said.

“It feels even better to be back,” the man replied.


	8. Chapter 8

“So Guinivere really hugged Morgana out of him, huh?” Gwaine said with an amused huff. “Trust our new Queen to kill them with kindness.”

It was about a week after the wedding, which Arthur had had the wisdom to conduct as if nothing had happened. He was still angry, and Lancelot had obviously not been allowed to attend, but he recognized that Gwen’s supposed betrayal had only been due to the enchanted bracelet and that to cancel or postpone his marraige would only show division within his castle and sow discord in the ranks of the already unruly nobles. Lancelot was much recovered and now that we was up and moving about the castle, it was decided that his friends deserved to know how and why he had suddenly reappeared before being injured and hidden away. The Knights of the Round table had been sworn to secrecy and Merlin was allowed to tell them what had happened. They’d all gathered in the same small dining room where they’d held Lancelot’s first Welcome Home feast, before everything went wrong.

“It isn’t exactly clear that it was Gwen who inadvertently banished Morgana from him,” Merlin clarified, even as Lancelot nodded is agreement of Gwaine’s statement.

“But you are _ you _ now, right?” Percival asked, turning to his friend.

“I am. Perhaps a bit more ragged around the edges than before, but I promise you, I am still myself,” Lancelot reassured him, and them all.

“Well that’s a cause for celebration!” Gwaine announced, pushing his chair back as he stood up. “I humbly propose a quest to the tavern,” he said, though they all knew he had done nothing humbly in his entire life and was not doing so now. He did, however, wait for Lancelot to nod before heading for the door and everyone else followed. Merlin tagged along too, of course, more to keep an eye on everyone than because he wanted a drink himself. Lancelot also wouldn’t be drinking, too wary of not being in control of himself after everything that had happened, but it would be nice to just be with his friends. A true homecoming celebration, he thought as Leon and Elyan each slung an arm around his shoulders, and one that he could enjoy, this time, as himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think!


End file.
